


life is what happens when you’re making other plans

by nayt0reprince



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Proposals, boey more like best boy-ey amirite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 05:38:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15357432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nayt0reprince/pseuds/nayt0reprince
Summary: but at least boey tried. with mae, though, things never go as expected.





	life is what happens when you’re making other plans

**Author's Note:**

> listen, as a known gay, we all have that One Het Couple you come to adore somehow with no logical explanation, and boey/mae happens to be one of them. good job intsys, now fix your other issues so I don’t have to do any more with retcon fics or anything like that. anyways please enjoy and lemme know what you think!

Everything had to be perfect, so of course the recently purchased seaside cottage turned out to need a lot more work than anticipated. The man who sold it to him - rotund, sported an elegant (but kind of greasy) mustache, and often rubbed his hands together - claimed the previous owners hadn’t been exactly perfect with its maintenance, but that it wasn’t _all_ bad, either. But the overgrown weeds, the rotted staircase, and the broken front window told an entirely different story. Boey gave the man a perturbed look; the man then offered a lucrative discount, and Boey, knowing that any other property would take at least half of his war earnings instead of a fifth, accepted (albeit reluctantly). The man fared him well with a wave before taking his leave.

So there Boey stood - property deeds and blueprints in one hand, bag filled with his Father’s borrowed tools in the other. The early summer seabreeze hushed through the weeds and wildflowers while sweeping his hair. Despite how ramshackled the place looked, compared to the other properties, there was some sort of hidden charm lurking beneath the much-needed work. Maybe it was because it hugged close to the forest and beach, he didn’t know. But what he _did_ know was that he couldn’t imagine any other location to carry out his plans. It had to be _here._

He only had one chance to propose, after all - second-best just wouldn’t cut it. He squinted at the blueprint. It would take him a few months by himself if he spent all his free time here. He could enlist his father and a few others to speed it along, but the factor of secrecy made it less appealing. Mae couldn’t know. It needed to be the perfect surprise. He already risked being found out by asking her questions at random intervals to find out more about her aesthetic preferences. 

So just him and possibly his dad, then.

He rolled up his sleeves and sighed before shaking his head with a laugh. The things he did for love.

*

When he realized, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was after she called him a clod for the thirty-sixth time during an intense fight against Terrors, or maybe it was when she playfully jabbed his shoulder while winking and telling a joke. Or maybe it was everything - just little moments that piled higher, and higher, and higher still, until he could no longer ignore nor deny the way she made his heart trip over itself. Of course, he _tried_. What sort of person fell in love with someone who they only ever bickered with? Their ideals clashed constantly, their personalities akin to cats and dogs, and even their approaches to battle differed. Nothing about it made any sense. 

Still, in defying all expectations, Boey found himself smitten. Her charming spunk needled and pricked his heart just enough to bleed out for her, to adore and care for her more than anyone else. Such feelings brought about a newly kindled bravery, a drive to take a chance at things he used to rebuke. Cautiousness, he believed, led to safety, but too much led to stagnation, as he learned. Mae never settled; her emotions changed at the drop of a hat, and she remained open to any and all opportunities life threw at her (for better or for worse). 

He didn’t want to be left behind and staring at her as she ran wildly into the distance. Thinking of a life without Mae was more horrific than fighting a Necrodragon’s nest.

“You’re zoning out there, buddy.” Mae reached across the table and flicked his forehead. “More turmoil in Boey-land? What’s it this time? Worried your lunch has gone bad?”

“No, nothing like that. Did you have to flick me?” He rubbed at the sting before leaning back in his chair. The priory’s library was quiet today - Domah and several new, interested servants of Mother Mila had taken a three-or-so-weeks pilgrimage around Novis. Mae and Boey, being the most experienced and having their fills for traveling from the war, stayed behind to keep watch. Genny never returned with them; she instead followed a band of mercenaries with Saber across the One Kingdom.

“I called your name like a million times, but you just kept staring out the window.” She turned the page of her book and scribbled something down. “I asked if you wanted to go to the beach after we close up today.”

Boey’s brow furrowed. “Like, together?”

“Yeah, together. What, is that so weird?” She pursed her lips before shifting her gaze to her fingernails. “I figured since we have more free time, we should take advantage of it. Besides,” she propped her head up onto her hands, “you’ve been so busy lately, I feel like I haven’t had any _alone_ time with you in ages.”

He laughed nervously. She wasn’t wrong; ever since he undertook his secret project of fixing up that cottage, he almost never had any spare time. It would be finished soon, give or take a week after a bit of furnishing and some minor detail work here and there. Just in time for his big surprise. His poor hands developed more callouses from fixing that place than from the war, though. “Sorry about that.”

“You can save your sorries and hang out with me. I packed a picnic and everything.”

A picnic? He raised an eyebrow. “What, is today special or something?”

She stared at him. A beat passed; he coughed awkwardly to fill the stifling silence. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she replied dismissively. She huffed before straightening her back and puffing up her cheeks, glaring at her book. “And here I thought _you_ were the one to remember things.”

“Remember _what?_ I don’t know what I don’t know - especially if you don’t tell me!”

“Then it’s a surprise.” 

He opened his mouth to retort, thought better of it, and closed it. If she went out of her way to make food for the both of them (which she almost never did), then he didn’t want to ruin her mood by saying something dumb. He already had to make it up to her for forgetting “something.” The last thing he wanted was to dampen her spirits even further.

“Then I’m looking forward to it.” Boey offered a smile as a peace offering. She glanced at him and smiled back - offering accepted, thank Mila.

“You better be. I planned this for weeks!”

 _Weeks?_ His grip tightened on his book. _Weeks!_ Gods, what could it be? Her birthday? _His_ birthday? A holiday? What day was it today? He broke out into a cold sweat as the potential answers spiraled into the abyss. He prayed to the Mother to spare him and provide insight, but, probably from her being kind of sort of definitely dead, she gave him nothing. He swallowed hard. How angry was Mae? Sure, she smiled back at him, but that meant _nothing_ now with this news. Maybe instead of fixing the cottage and planning a proposal, he should focus on breaking the news to his parents of his impending demise and potential funeral costs.

“Then, uh, I’m _super_ looking forward to it?” He averted his eyes. Disaster. This was a complete, unmitigated disaster. He should get her something as an apology, but if he left _now,_ it would be too obvious. He tugged at his collar - the temperature in the library increased tenfold in the last two and a half minutes. 

“Relax, Boey.” Mae closed her book and stretched, joints popping in several places just to make him cringe. “No need to be anxious about it. I’m just giving you a hard time.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Well, I’m a _little_ annoyed, but at the same time, it just makes this all the better.” She winked. “Can’t wait to see the look on your face!”

“So you _are_ trying to scare me.”

“Who knows? You’ll see.”

“Mae.”

“Boey,” she replied in a sing-song voice. “Like I said - relax. I promise it’s nothing terrible and I’m _not_ mad.”

He let out a deep sigh. “All right. I trust you.”

She looked up at him and grinned. “That’s always your first mistake, you know that?”

“What can I say?” He shrugged before laughing. “I seem to lose all logical sense around you. Uh, that’s a compliment, by the way.”

Her gaze softened, and her ears became dusted with a faint pink. “I know that, dummy. Now get back to that transcribing! Those ancient texts aren’t going to rewrite themselves!”

“Who’s fault is it for distracting me in the first place, hm?”

“Details!” She swatted the table a few times. “Get back to work already!”

Details mattered more than she ever gave them credit for. Details, after all, was what he adored about her. He leaned back in his chair and smiled at his book.

“Yes, dear.”

*

Few others remained on the beach as dark afternoon clouds crept ever closer towards the shores. The waves crashed against the sand restlessly, casting pebbles onto the earth before sucking them back into the tumultuous surf. Boey eyed the sky warily while chewing on a Mae-made, miracuously-edible sandwich. He swallowed hard, and glanced over at her; Mae popped several blueberries into her mouth and leaned back, seemingly unaware of the looming danger. She didn’t even blink when it thundered, low and growling.

“Uh, Mae,” Boey said, nudging her with his shoulder, “are you _sure_ it’s a good idea to be out here?”

“No worries, no worries. We’ll be done before that big ol’ grumpy storm even gets here.” She winked and smiled. “So. Did you come up with any guesses about what today is?”

Oh, darn it. Of course she’d ask. She would never let him off the hook that easily. He wiped the stray bread crumbs from his lips before clearing his throat. He hummed thoughtfully before offering a sheepish, “Wednesday?”

“For the love of Mila!” She jabbed him with her elbow. “You’re totally helpless! I even gave you extra time and _everything._ ”

She shook her head and sighed. Boey remained silent, watching her curiously.

“Today’s our _anniversary,_ ” she said as she pursed her lips. “Our ‘official’ one year anniversary, if we’re not counting all that awkward nonsense you called ‘courtship.’ Today’s the day you officially asked me to be your partner.”

Wait. Boey blinked. 

“I thought that was next week.”

“What?” Mae stared back at him. “No, it - no?”

“Wasn’t it? It was the week before the end of Avistym. There was the festival, remember? Celebrating the Novian Parrot? All those food stalls. You ate like half a month’s worth of meat.” He tilted his head. “Avistym ends _two_ weeks from now. Right?”

Mae continued to stare at him for a few moments, and then scooped up a large handful of blueberries. She ate two or three, brow furrowing in thought, chewing slowly. Her eyes twitched; a slow realization spread across her face. Boey startled when she suddenly rose to her feet and chucked the remaining berries into the water.

“Are you kidding me!” She threw her hands up in the air. “All this preparation, and I’m early by a stupid week! Well then, too bad!” Her nostrils flared as she whipped around, scowling at him. “I override it, then! _Today_ is our anniversary now, and that’s final!”

“I’m - I’m pretty sure that’s not how it w--”

“ _Because!_ ” Mae stomped over to him, completely ignoring his comment. “Because today’s going to be even _better_ than next week. Boey, stand up.”

“What?”

“I said, _stand up._ ”

Confused, Boey hurried to his feet. In the past year, he somehow gained several more inches on her. When they first met, he recalled having to cock his head back just to see her face. How times change. He watched as Mae paced back and forth in front of him, muttering to herself. Then she stopped, turned to him, and grabbed one of his hands.

“Look.” She lowered her head, eyes obscured by her bangs. “Even though we squabble like old men, I really, _really_ care for you, dearly. When we first met, I couldn’t stand you. Remember how during magic-practice you caught my air on fire? I swore I’d never forgive you.” She shook her head. “But now, I can’t stand the thought of being _without_ you. You are the second-most important person to me, right after Celica. But she’s like my sister, you know? Anyways. I want to keep you safe. I want to keep you happy, with me, for however long the Mother will let us have. So, Boey.”

She swept her thumb over his knuckles while biting her lower lip. Quietly, she dropped to one knee. A little box, carved from wood, materialized in her hand. A second dragged out for a year as she fumbled to open it. In the rapidly dimming sunlight, a small pearl embedded in silver shone bright. His eyes widened. He gaped.

“M-Mae--”

“Boey,” she all but whispered, voice almost drowned out by the crashing waves, “I love you. Will you - Won’t you - I mean - please marry me!”

The following crash of thunder, accompanied by a sudden cascading rainfall, soaked them both within a few seconds. Neither of them moved. Mae’s arms began to tremble from hoisting the little box up, droplets dripping off her skin. Boey kept blinking as the rain dribbled down his face. He tried to bite down on his tongue, but it didn’t stop the abrupt laughter that escaped his lips. Oh, shoot. _Shoot._ He loved her so much. Mae shot a glare up to the sky.

“Are you kidding me! Mother above! Let me just have this moment, won’t you?!”

Boey slapped his knees and shook his head. Of course this would happen. Of course she would think the same thing he would, even if she was a little early. 

“Why are you _laughing?_ ” she demanded.

“It’s the same,” he answered, wiping the tears from his eyes. “You got the same kind.”

Mae gawked as he got on one knee, mimicking her. Of course, he hadn’t quite gotten the perfect box for it yet, so he pulled it from his back pocket as-is. The little pearl was just a tad larger than Mae’s, but not by much. 

“I was going to do this next week,” he admitted. “But I guess you beat me to it.”

“You,” she stammered, “you were going to--I thought you would _never_ do it, so I--”

“I don’t just have a ring,” he continued, smiling. “I also have another surprise for you, too, but--”

She reached over and pinched his cheeks. He squawked. 

“What was _that_ for?!”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re real. You seem so… _confident._ Un-Boeylike. I got concerned.”

“Look, I’m already dripping wet, can we not add ‘throbbing pain’ to my current state of being?” He sighed. “Anyways. When it comes to you, I feel a lot braver. Happier. And I want to always be that way, with you. So, I love you too, Mae. I would love to marry you, and live with you for the rest of our days.”

The rain no longer mattered when Mae broke out into a gleeful smile, stretching from ear to ear, eyes shimmering with a happiness unmatched. But the “big hurty” lightning mattered. They needed to get inside, quickly, before getting electrified. He offered her a hand, pulled her up, and hurried away from the beach, Mae’s picnic basket in tow. Maybe they could find a shop open somewhere and duck inside for cover. He squeezed her fingers. It always amazed him how small her hands were, contrary to her brash and larger-than-life personality. 

She yanked him out of his musings and rounded the corner before fumbling with a doorknob and pushing it open. They tumbled inside after Boey tripped over the welcome mat, a scent of cinnamon and sounds of running water greeting them. Urgent footsteps followed, and a squawked, “Who is it?!” came out in a shrill voice. 

“Relax, Mum, it’s me!” Mae pushed Boey aside and stood up.

Mae’s mother - rose-colored hair sprinkled with silver, glasses over her sparkling eyes - wiped her wrinkled hands on a dish towel as she approached, wheezing. She gasped. “By the Mother! Mae, what _happened?_ ” She glanced at Boey. “This is _your_ fault, isn’t it. My word, you’ve gotten my beautiful child drenched! What am I to do if she grows ill and dies? She hasn’t even had my new apple pie recipe! Who _else_ is going to eat it? You? My husband? Bah!”

“Mum,” Mae interjected, holding up her hands in surrender, “it was actually my idea.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Stupid child! Who’s going to eat my pie if you die from pneumonia, eh? No one else has refined enough pallets to appreciate my food. What a disaster. I’ll fetch you some towels.”

“ _Mum_ ,” Mae said, exasperated, but she was laughing nonetheless, “the Mother would never let an engaged woman die to something so lame before her wedding day.”

At that, her mother’s eyebrows rose. “ _Wedding_ day? Engaged?” She looked Mae up and down, stared at the ring, and then looked to Boey’s hand. Both of her hands flew up to cover her mouth. “Oh! _Oh!_ You two - I cannot believe - It’s happening! It’s actually happening! Dear!” She scurried out of the entranceway and through the kitchen, shouting for her husband. Mae laughed sheepishly.

“We better find a place to live quick, or else we’ll either be stuck here or at _your_ place. That’d mean we’d have to deal with my Mum always invading our personal space. Or we could stay at yours.” She nudged his shoulder. “And we _know_ you can’t live through another week of your dad’s work stories.”

He pulled off his boots and dropped them close to the front door with an icky _squish_. He tried not to grin. “Good thing we don’t have to do either, then.”

It took her a second to catch on; she cocked her head to the side, confused, cheeks puffed from contemplating. Once she realized, she let out the air she held, eyes widening as she jerked back. “No way. You didn’t. You did _not._ Boey.” She started laughing again. “Boey, oh Mother, is _that_ your other surprise? You got us a _house?”_

“Maybe.” Now he was grinning. Her happiness was infectious. “It’s still a work in progress, though, but it even has a garden for you, like you wanted.”

“ _Before_ you proposed?” she continued. “You big dummy! What if I said _no?_ Then you would’ve had to live there all by yourself.”

“Not to sound full of myself, but,” he shrugged, “I never imagined you saying no. The thought just never crossed my mind.”

“You _mega_ big idiot! You didn’t think that _maybe_ from how much we argue there wasn’t the _slimmest_ chance of me rejecting you?” 

“Who _else_ in the world is going to put up with your arguing?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it, followed by a frown. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“You love me and you know it.”

“ _Reluctantly,”_ she amended, but her stifled giggles told another story. 

Her mother (eventually) returned (after berating her “lazy” husband to show more enthusiasm about their precious daughter who was soon to be wed) with the towels and fresh clothes to change into. They dried off, and then warmed up over a slice of cinnamon-apple pie (oh, if only Mae could have inherited her mother’s cooking skills). The rain continued into the late afternoon, a soothing backdrop noise as they gathered around the dining room table illuminated by candlelight, telling stories and cracking jokes between making plans for the big day. Mae never looked so radiant (not that he would ever say it aloud with everyone else listening, of course). She glanced at him and gave him a small smile before lacing their fingers together.

Albeit differently than he imagined, at the end of all things, Boey still got his “happily ever after,” plus some.

Even _with_ all their quarreling.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me @nayt0reprince on them twitters if u want more splendid content feat. probably not as much boey but a whole lot of ike


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